Picture This
by DarkElements10
Summary: Stephanie is there to comfort Noah when he takes the time to remember his parents and past through photographs. [ONE-SHOT] [STEPHANIE/OC]


**Picture This**

**By: Rhuben**

**Summary-Stephanie is there to comfort Noah when he takes the time to remember his parents and past through photographs.**

**Prompt for one-shot by guest reviewer: **_"I was wondering if I could send in a one shot request? If I can, can I please have a Noah one? Maybe a ton of angst and fluff"_

Well, I'll do my best. Hope this is enough angst and fluff for you!

**NOTE – **This was originally going to be called, I Think She Likes Me. It was c changed because the original idea I had for this I can put into my series (which seems to happen a lot lately with ideas that I have).

* * *

17-year-old Noah Jackson-McGuire leaned up against the base of his bed, stretching his legs out across the plush carpet, crossing one leg over the other to balancing the photo album in his lap. He ran his fingers over the plastic covered pictures, his fingers tickling the plastic pockets, creasing them just slightly. He quickly smoothed them out, his pulse quickening as he smoothed out the plastic as gently as he could. The pictures were already old, damaged slightly due to the old house fire.

If closed his eyes, he could still hear the cracking and pops of the fire as it swept through the house. He could feel the intense heat of his skin, sucking the air out of his body as he gasped and choked, fighting against the acrid smoke as it burned his eyes and throat. He could bring up that feeling of relief as he stepped out into the cool night air, bare foot, into the chilly damp grass. He could hear the cacophony of sirens, his brothers and sisters calling for their parents, frothier oldest brother, commands from police officers, the static of walkie-talkies, the concerns of the others in their neighborhood as they watched their house burn.

And then he remembered the silence.

The silence of the ambulance, the police car, the hospital; it was deafening. Silence had become a scary sound to him. He had to have something to fill the silence even now as he poured over the photo album, loud music blasting through his Linx headphones.

That was the night his parents died and the nigh he stopped talking. He had gone to the hospital to identify his parents' bodies. They warned him not to, he was so young, but he wanted to; it was the last time he would see them. The night he saw their burned and blackened bodies was the night his life had changed.

A smile came to his face as he turned the page, two pictures stacked on top of each other. They were both taken at Bondi Beach, one when he was six years old—almost seven, the second ten years later when he was sixteen.

He remembered both days well. His dad, Reed, had called for the family to take a picture. He had immediately climbed onto his twin's, Patrick, shoulders getting closer to the warm rays of the sun, smiling brightly as the camera flashed.

His baby brother, Sydney, who was a year old at the time, was sitting up against Patrick's legs a pile of sand in his lap, smiling happily. His oldest twin sisters, Riley and Rhuben, who were nine at the time, were being pulled back into eleven year old Julius's, his oldest brother, chest, laughing as he tickled them. His mom, Ruriko—who also responded to Renee—and his dad rounded out the picture, sharing a sweet kiss at the back of the group.

In the second picture it was ten years later (just last summer), and during one of their return visits to Australia, a recreation of the first picture. Although, this one included Julius's wife, Brittany, with the two of them recreating the role of his parents, and Julius's old spot was taken by his new father, Ronan McGuire.

His smile faded as he looked over the top picture, taking in every little detail that he could: half of his dad's forehead was white as her had gotten a tan before getting a haircut; his mom's and sisters' freckles stood out more against their tan skin; and Sydney's fisherman-like hat—in the shape of a bear with ears and a face—was on backwards, nearly slipping off the back of his head.

He could remember both of those days perfectly, but he had never really stopped to take in the moment; it was just another picture he was taking. All pictures were just another picture to him. With his job, it was a normal aspext of his life, he just started to tune it all out while giving people whatever it was that they wanted.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, flinching violently, slamming the corner of the book into his chest, knocking one side of the large headphone across his face, bashing his nose. He turned to see who had grabbed him.

Assuming it was one of his brothers, he turned, poised to launch himself on top of them to stop short as he watched Stephanie King jump back, swinging her hands up in defense. Noah's heart rammed in his chest as his eyes immediately flickered towards the movement and he curled himself into a ball, tucking his head down between his legs, covering the back of his head with his arms.

A scream had erupted from Stephanie's throat, but Noah had kept quiet. His throat had locked up, his muscles tensed, and a cold feeling washed over him, drowning him in fear. His breaths came out in shaky gasps.

"I'm sorry." Stephanie was the first one to say anything. "I thought you heard me."

Noah slowly lowered his arms, lifting his head slightly, but keeping his gaze on the ground. He slowly dragged his tongue over his lips, reaching up to twist the rings that sat on his fingers. _You're ok. It's just Steph, you're ok_. Back and forth, back and forth, he twisted the ring on his finger, his fingers grazing over the small indents of the ring as they spelled out his initials (NJ-M) and the date their adoption to Ronan had been finalized.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Stephanie continued. Noah turned his head towards her and watched as she gathered her hair up in both hands, pulling it over one shoulder.

Noah opened his mouth to answer, but only a small squeak managed to slip past his lips. Stephanie gave him a half smile; a reassuring smile, but her eyes were filled with worry, and concern. He felt his face heat up and turned his head away from her, embarrassed at how he had reacted. He hadn't flinched in such a long time…

He licked his lips before pressing them tightly together. Small high pitched noises could be heard being made in the back of his throat. He had to apologize. Or say something; reassure her. Something. Anything!

He opened his mouth, but a breath of air rushed out. Nothing else. His hand curled into fists at his sides, his fingernails digging into his skin. He set his jaw, jutting it out, a hard look coming to his face. He swallowed once, twice, three times and opened and closed his mouth, trying to make a sound. An odd, wheezing sound escaped his mouth every time he breathed, but his throat wouldn't relax.

"Don't," Stephanie said, slowly stepping closer towards him and Noah closed his mouth. "Don't push yourself." She lowered herself to the floor, bringing her knee to her chest, wrapping her arms around her leg, resting her chin on her knee. "It's ok."

_No it's not_,Noah thought to himself, shaking his head. _I hate not being able to talk to you_.

"I came to hang out with your sisters," Stephanie explained, answering his unasked question. "Just stopped in to say 'Hi'."

Noah felt his lips twitch up into a smile before he bowed his head, looking away from her as a hot blush raced up his body, harboring itself into his cheeks. He really liked her; always had ever since he met her. He never thought he had a chance with her; he was three years younger than her, and one of his sisters' best girl friends. He always thought she was beautiful. Having lived, and shuttled back and forth to California and Australia, he had seen his fair share of beautiful girls, but she stood out just a little bit more to him.

She was a great dancer, really funny, and always had a camera—whether it be digital or Polaroid—attached to her hand or in close proximity. She always went out of her way to spend some time with Sydney as he got older, and when his "episodes" grew frequent during times of stress. She's known for a while that he liked her, he had told her about two years ago, and his feelings for her just kept growing.

"Looking at pictures?" she asked, nodding towards the photo album that lay haphazardly on the floor. "What of?"

Noah gasped before a whimpering sound rushing past his lips as he immediately reached for it. _No. No, no, no, no! _As he lifted it into the air, pictures came sliding out, some pages hanging out of the book. He gathered them up as best as he could—some of the more damaged picture breaking even more as it was scooted across the floor, and opened the photo album, frowning as pages slid out and onto the floor, ripped from the binding.

_Damn it_! Noah could feel a lump form in his throat as he looked at the carnage in front of him. He pressed his lips tightly together, swallowing thickly before slamming the book shut, throwing it onto the ground.

"Noah," Stephanie said quietly, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. "I'm so sorry, this is my fault."

Noah raked his hands through his long hair, brushing his hair up off his forehead, clutching the fistfuls of his hair, tightly. A humming sound escaped the back of his throat as he opened his mouth. "Nnnnngh." Noah made a face, twisting his mouth to the side. "Nnnot…yyour…ffault." He let out a deep breath of air, allowing his shoulders to slump, his muscles to relax, as if he was drained from how tense he was.

He had been diagnosed with selective mutism about two years ago. If it wasn't for Ronan, he probably never would've been diagnosed with the disorder. Ronan had always known him to be a quiet person, but he was the only one who really listened when Noah had gotten the courage to tell him how hard it was for him to talk at times and he only told Ronan after he was 100% sure Ronan wasn't going anywhere.

A lot of people just thought he was shy or didn't like talking—which a lot of the time was true—but it was more than that. There were cases where he just didn't speak. He couldn't speak. His throat would close up and nothing would come out. He would try so hard, but he just couldn't get anything out. He had tried to explain it to Robert, but he just put it off as Noah being "the shy one" of the group. He'd gladly just give that title to Sydney.

It was hard; meeting new people, going to new places, it just made him uncomfortable. He worried about doing or saying the wrong thing at all times. The worry, the fear of the repercussions would just make his throat tighten as if his body was making it easier to not make that mistake, or to warn him that if he said anything, something bad would happen, so it was doing him a favor.

That was how his therapist Dr. Angelo explained it to him. But, Noah knew that it stemmed deeper than that, much like everything in his life. It all stemmed from one event;

He wasn't in the best line of business for his "condition" that was for sure. Over the years he had been asked many times why he was quiet in interviews. He always joked that everybody else just talked too much. It was just easier to keep quiet. They always knew ahead of time what questions they'd be asked and they always chose who would answer them depending on how well he thought he'd do.

It was almost unpredictable when he would stop talking; he'd be fine at home, but as soon as he stepped out of the house, or be around a specific person and he'd clam up. If he could get a few words out, it'd be very, very quiet, eventually giving him the nickname Mouse. He _hated_ that nickname, but was never confident enough to speak up and tell whoever called him that.

Performing was easy; the adrenaline just put him in a different head space, and he had his brothers and sisters around him to pick him up if he fell—and he had a few bad falls on stage—and have his back no matter what. They were the only ones who knew what he was going through, who understood how hard their lifestyle was.

"Well, obviously, these pictures are important to you," Stephanie said, moving around to grab the thrown object and the pictures and pages that slipped out. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." She flipped a picture around to look at it and stopped, a smile coming to her face when she got a good look at the picture. "Is this you?"

Noah held out his hand for the picture, his fingers brushing hers. A spark shot up his hand, through his arm, and into his heart, kick starting it, leaving a burning trail in its wake. He glanced over at her, catching her eye for a split second before dropping his gaze down onto the card. But, that split second was enough: her cheeks were a tinged pink with a blush; one that he wasn't sure if it was make up or if she was actually blushing.

She had a light in her eyes, one that he didn't see that often outside of when she was making a film, but was happy to see that he was able to bring that light to her eyes. She was the only one he knew that could pull off wearing large hoop earrings, without worrying about getting her hair caught in them.

His brothers and sisters had always said that he had an eye for detail after spending all his time silently observing people and situations. Just one quick glance and he could see what a lot of people probably wouldn't notice.

"Pat," Noah said after looking over the picture, of Patrick when he was five years old, plopped down in the middle of a grassy area, cheeks plump as he blew into a wand of bubbles. "Forgot that was in there." He shifted through the pictures before coming to a picture of him, standing next to a pool, wrapped tightly in a towel with ears on it, smiling happily for the camera. "This is me."

Stephanie moved closer towards him to get a good look at the picture. Noah could smell her flowery perfume as it invaded his nostrils. He didn't expect that of her. She had what they all called "Girly Swag." She had confidence he wish he had.

_Why would she want to be with someone like me? _Noah thought to himself. She liked to go out and have fun and a lot of the times, he would rather stay home and read or learn new magic tricks.

"Awwww," Stephanie cooed, a wide smile coming to her face as she looked at the picture. "That's so cute." He handed her the picture and she held it carefully by the edges with shaky fingers.

Noah could sense her uneasiness and, with a deep breath of air, reached over, cupping her hands with his larger one to steady her. He quickly cast a glance at her. Was she going to pull away? Was she mad? Uncomfortable? Was his palm starting to sweat? Did he have bad B.O.?

"So…" Stephanie asked quietly, looking up at him, her hair brushing against his ear. "These are all from your old house?"

"Some of 'em," Noah replied, slowly nodding. "We, um, still get stuff sent over from time to time. If it's salvageable, I mean." He grasped the photo album and flipped it over to the front where a single picture was taped in on the inside cover. "This is the worst one I have. This was on my parents' wedding day."

"Your mom was so beautiful," Stephanie said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What was her name?"

"Ruriko," Noah replied and Stephanie blinked in surprise. "Not a lot of people realize that we're part Japanese." Her eyes widened and Noah laughed a little bit. "Her name was Ruriko, but she went by Renee a lot. She was quiet, like me, but everyone always said she really showed who she was when she had us around her."

"So, Reed, Ruriko, Riley, and Rhuben?" Stephanie asked.

"If Syd was a girl, I think they had the name Rhiannon picked out," Noah commented and Stephanie let out a tinkling laugh. "Or Rhian for short."

He carefully turned the pages that were left in the album before stopping at a picture of his mother dressed in a kimono, her hair pulled back into a tight bun with baby Sydney in her arms, dressed in a kimono as well. He tapped his finger against the plastic pocket.

"They took us to Japan celebrate Hanami," Noah explained. "It's a time when all the cherry blossoms start to bloom." He frowned. "I barely remember it. We never got the chance to go back as a family." He let out a sigh through his nose. "It's almost their anniversary." Stephanie made a noise in the back of her throat and Noah turned his head to look at her. "Ronan gave us, all six of us, one of these last year for their anniversary. But, Julius got a lot of the wedding pictures to put with his and Britt's." He made a humming sound. "I need to look at those the next time I'm home."

"You don't consider LA home?" Stephanie asked and Noah's nose wrinkled, shaking his head. "Why not?"

Noah sucked in a deep breath of air before letting it out through his nose, lifting his gaze from the pictures in his lap. It was true that he had lived in California a lot longer than he had in Australia, but he still called Australia home. It was the place where he had last been really happy.

"Because I don't feel them here," Noah said, starting his explanation. "But, I can always feel them back home. It's a comfort, it really just lets me relax. I don't know about anybody else, but, I feel like mom and dad just stayed there, waiting for us to come home to them." He reached underneath his shirt nad pulled out the chain with a pair of dog tags at the end. "This one's my dad's and this one's Daddy Teak's, _his _dad. Julius, Pat, and I got them when we turned 16. Syd still has a little way to go, but he'll get his, too."

They clanked together as he dropped them back down onto his chest. "I don't know…they help me relax when I know they're there. I feel like, they allow us to go out into the world and do whatever, but they're still there for us at home when we go back." He gave the Jackson family famous one-shoulder shrug, bumping her own shoulder and she laughed quietly. "'Home is where the heart is' as they say. We used to joke and say 'Home is where the hurt is' since that's where everything had started."

"That's terrible," Stephanie said, although she started laughing as well.

"It was how we coped," Noah replied as her laughter subsided. "Ignore it or joke about it. After everything with Robert, we'd even joke about that. I just preferred not to talk about it." He pulled his knee up to his chest. "We all just dealt with it differently. Riles talked back to him more, got more motherly to the rest of us, Rhubes tried to keep the peace whether it be between him and us, or if we're taking our frustrations out on each other, Patrick tried bringing humor, I just got quiet, and Sydney got clingy. I think that's why it's so hard now I'm so used to being quiet, avoiding those topics that my mind just doesn't let me do it anymore."

"I saw how much it hurt people; people thought _I _thought I was better then them. Hell, Kendall even told me he didn't think I liked him because I never talked to him. He took my silence to things he did or said around me as me silently judging him. And I hate it. I hate not being able to talk sometimes. I hate that Robert made me like this." Stephanie seemed to flinch at the mention of his ex-foster father's name. His friends were getting used to bringing up their past, but before hand it was like they were walking on eggshells, like the five of them would blow up on them if they had brought it up.

"When he was around, I was always so worried that I would say something wrong or stupid because whenever I did, he would always be there ready to tell me how stupid I was, or how stupid an idea is, or how he didn't know why he put up with me. To him, anything that had to do with my mouth would automatically be stupid whether it was talking or smiling. After a while, I just learned not to open my mouth; whether it be talking or smiling, unless I knew I was safe. That fear grew into literally stopping me from talking although, all those years ago, selective mutism wasn't that well known, people just thought I was shy. I tried telling people that at times I physically couldn't talk, but no one listened."

Noah's words had started to shake at the end and he felt his bottom lip quiver. "Mom and dad took the time to listen to what you had to say no matter what it was. They really made us feel like we could contribute to the world and Robert just wanted to keep us under his thumb."

He swallowed thickly, rapidly blinking his stinging eyes as a wave of tears collected in them, causing his vision to start to swim. He lifted the palm of his hand and dabbed at his eyes. _Stop crying! _He could hear the harsh voice all over again, "Be a man! You're embarrassing me. Suck it up!"He snuck a peek at Stephanie out of the corner of his eyes and saw that she looked close to tears as well. _God, now you're making her cry!_

"Don't do that," he said before clearing his throat. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me." Stephanie punched him on the arm and Noah turned his head to look at her and blinked in surprise when she suddenly leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

It was better than he could've dreamed of. Her lips were soft and warm, her smell intoxicating. An ache formed in his stomach as her fingers burned a hot trail up the side of his neck, past his jaw to cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut as the kiss consumed his every thought apart from kissing her back. Her hair fell over his face as she pressed her lips harder against his, tickling his forehead, cheeks, and neck, sending shivers down his spine.

And then it was over.

He merely stared at her, eyes wide, as she pulled back, giving him a smile before using her thumb to wipe her lip gloss off of his mouth. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to say anything.

"You didn't need to tell me all of that, either," Stephanie replied and Noah closed his mouth, twisting his lips to the side. He lifted his hand, running his fingers through his hair, brushing it so they fell over his face, trying to hide his blush. She gave him a knowing smile. "And do you realize you told me all of that, no problem?"

Noah just shrugged and Stephanie laughed before glancing over at the pictures. He owed that all to Dr. Angelo. He was always patient during their lessons. The first handful of times, Noah would literally spend an hour just sitting there, playing with whatever it was that was in the room, or he'd read a book, and Dr. Angelo would just watch him, taking notes on his little notepad used specifically for his sessions.

After a while, he would just start to ask questions like "How are you doing today?", "When was the last time you went back home?", "What's next for your career?" waiting for him to answer them. He never put any pressure on him, something that Ronan had advised him on. He could communicate well with his facial expressions, body language, and movement, but Dr. Angelo had been slowly working with him on learning how to remove that as a crutch for him. He was around people that understood him so well without talking, it just became second nature.

A sly smile crossed Stephanie's face as she reached for her phone. "Let's take a picture," she offered. "After all these years, I don't think I have one of you and me." She held up her camera and Noah pu up his hand, blocking the lens. "Come on, Noah. We'll do it together."

Noah's upper lip curled slightly and Stephanie stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. He already knew he wasn't going to win the argument, not with that look. He let out a sigh, nodding and Stephanie scooted closer to him, holding her phone above her head before quickly lowering it.

"And you _have_ to smile," she said in a warning tone.

Noah really hated his smile. Or rather, he learned to hate his smile. He thought it was too wide, or his skin stretched oddly, or his teeth looked weird, or any other problem he could come up with. It was part of his image to never smile for publicity shots for his band. Even in pictures that his brothers and sisters took for their Scuttlebutter, he never smiled.

"Steph," he said with a groan.

"You just opened your mouth and told me something I bet you've probably never told anyone else," Stephanie pointed out to him. "All you have to do is smile." She then gave him a toothy grin. "I'll love you for it."

Noah blushed, but felt his lips part, stretching upwards as he broke out into a toothy grin. Stephanie instantly leaned in, giving a bright smile, holding her phone above her head to press her thumb into the shutter button.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked, gently nudging his shoulder. "I should get going, your sisters might be looking for me and I promised Syd I'd play a game of Scrabble with him." She gave a brief roll of her eyes. "Not that I really have a chance against him."

"Kay," Noah replied with a nod of his head.

Stephanie lifted a hand, making her way towards the bedroom door. "You have a nice voice, Noah," she said to him, "and I'm sure everyone would like to hear it more often." She winked. "Or at least, I'd like to."

"Yeah," Noah said with a nod of his head. Stephanie knocked on the bedroom door with her knuckles before heading down the hall. "Steph?"

"Yeah?" Stephanie asked, backpedaling to give him a questioning look.

"Um." Noah scratched the back of his neck before dropping his arm to his leg with a loud _smack_. He then motioned towards the pile of pictures on the floor. "Send me that picture, and, um, I'll have a reason to fix this faster."

"You got it," Stephanie replied with a smile.

* * *

**A/N: **I kept changing my mind with what this was going to be about so many times! This was meant to be done a loooooong while ago. I tried to not make this too much of an info dump. With Stephanie kissing Noah, you could think of it as a spur of the moment/cheering up thing or in anyway you want as I haven't decided, in this one-shot anyway, whether or not she'd be with Carlos. It is placed in Season 4 but not specifically anywhere in the timeline.

My main idea I found I couldn't really put angst into and I thought this was the best way to bring more of a background to Noah's character as we haven't really seen a lot of Patrick, Noah, or Sydney. But, I'm excited and inspired to write more about them now.

-Rhuben


End file.
